


A Thing Called Love

by grumblesandmumbles



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Dancer Ian, Gallavich Week, M/M, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 09:57:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4133235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grumblesandmumbles/pseuds/grumblesandmumbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I started writing something as a little surprise for Mony's birthday (which is why I'm gifting it to her, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!) and realized it would also fit in for Gallavich Week. So here's an unintentional submission for GW2015.</p><p>Title comes from this song: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3DfDsjOfEq8">Thing Called Love</a></p><p>Fun fact: I was at the show where that video was filmed. It was the last song, and it was epic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thing Called Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brazenlyunabashedlyshamelessly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brazenlyunabashedlyshamelessly/gifts).



Mickey Milkovich wasn't what he'd call _in the closet, _not exactly. The door was open, but he wasn't bursting through and parading it around. He considered it to be something that was on a need to know basis, and the only people who made the cut were his brother Iggy and sister Mandy... and the guys he picked up when he needed to scratch that itch. Not that they ever lasted long. Mickey Milkovich didn't _do_ attachments. He also didn't do love, feelings, romance or any of that other crap. His needs were more primal and he was fine with that. __

__Now was one of those times when he was ready to sate that need. He dug through the clothes piled on top of his dresser and pulled out a pair of jeans, more fitted than his usual fare. He stepped into them and pulled them over his hips, buttoning and zipping them, sparing a quick glance in the mirror and noting how they sat a bit low on his hips and hugged his ass. He knew guys liked that shit, he certainly didn't mind it. He grabbed a button down shirt, sniffing it and wrinkling his nose. He tossed it across the room and grabbed another one, giving it the same test before nodding his approval. He wasn't tooting his own horn, but he knew he wasn't a bad looking guy. A little rough around the edges, sure. But there was always someone who liked that._ _

__He smoothed his hands down the front of his shirt one last time before shoving his wallet in his back pocket and leaving the room. He walked quickly towards the door, grabbing his cigarettes and lighter off the kitchen table as he passed. He lit a cigarette and puffed eagerly at it as he walked under the el to the nearest station. He waited on the platform, nervously shifting back and forth from one foot to the other. This was the worst part, the anticipation. The prelude. Mickey still didn't feel comfortable going over to Boystown. He didn't know if he ever would. Once he was there and in a bar or a club, it became a bit easier for him. But the way in, it got him every time. The train pulled in and he got on, too ramped up to sit down._ _

__Mickey got off at his stop and went down to the street and was faced with a choice. If he went right, he'd find the quiet gay bar that almost felt like the neighborhood shithole he was used to, and was the option that was much more comfortable for him. His luck there was sometimes hit or miss though. If he went left, there was the gay club that he had heard about from a guy he picked up awhile back. He'd only went there a couple of times but he'd gotten lucky each one. Before he could change his mind, he took a hard left and made his way to the club. He wanted those better odds._ _

__When Mickey got there, he almost reconsidered. The line was long and every time he looked at the neon sign above the doors he wanted to roll his eyes. _The Fairy Tail_. He got the pun, but still thought it was a stupid fuckin' name for a gay club. But the line moved quick, and before he lost his patience, he found himself showing them his ID. He entered and moved through the crowd, trying his best not to focus on the roaring music. He didn't understand the point. The bass always thumped too hard and, to Mickey, the beats were all the same. He figured if he drank enough or picked up a guy quick enough, it wouldn't matter and he wouldn't have to sit here and analyze it. He squeezed his way up to the bar and yelled his order, throwing a bill on the bar top. When it came, he grabbed hold of it and turned to scan the crowd._ _

__There was no shortage of variety or options for Mickey to choose from, but he wasn't seeing anyone who stood out to him. He finished his drink quickly, ordering another one. When that one came, he made more of an effort to nurse it. He didn't want to get so drunk that the reason for his excursion became useless. That had happened once or twice too. He stayed at his vantage point by the bar, looking out over the dance floor and keeping an eye out for someone who peaked his interest. He heard a voice speaking to him before he knew who it belonged to._ _

__"Can I buy your next round?"_ _

__He looked over and a young blonde man was smiling at him expectantly. The guy wasn't bad looking, but was a bit on the plain side. Mickey felt nothing. "No thanks."_ _

__The man shrugged and replied, "Suit yourself."_ _

__Mickey moved towards the edge of the dance floor, leaning on the railing and taking in the scene. It was then that he saw what he was looking for. Across the room on a podium was a dancer, in good shape but not looking like some juicehead. The light hit him just right and Mickey saw that he had fiery red hair. Mickey made his way around the perimeter of the dance floor to get closer. He picked a new location and started sneaking glances at the dancer. For a while, that's how it remained, until he realized the dancer was watching him too. They made eye contact and held it for an almost uncomfortably long beat, until Mickey looked down. But the dancer was undeterred. He stared at Mickey, rolling his hips and running his hands over his body. Finally, the dancer came over and leaned down to speak into Mickey's ear._ _

__"Twenty five dollars gets you a dance."_ _

__Mickey bit at his bottom lip nervously. "What if I want more than a dance?"_ _

__The redhead appraised him with his eyes, looking Mickey up and down and back up again. He smiled and cocked his head towards the private rooms. "Come with me."_ _

__Mickey followed him and saw the dancer speak to a bouncer who pointed out an empty room. They entered the room and the dancer closed the door behind them. He turned and gently put a hand on Mickey's chest, pushing him back slowly until Mickey's legs hit the couch behind him and he dropped down onto it. He straddled Mickey, long limbs surrounding him and closing him in. Normally being trapped would send Mickey for the hills, but he didn't mind it this time. The man above him gyrated, ghosting his body over Mickey's without so much as brushing against him. Just the threat of where things were about to go had Mickey straining in his jeans._ _

__The dancer took one hand off the back of the couch and lightly traced a finger along Mickey's jaw, moving down his throat to his sternum and slowly over the buttons on Mickey's shirt. Mickey licked his lips nervously as he felt the dancer's finger tracing the button on his jeans._ _

__"I"m Curtis. What's your name?"_ _

__"Johnny. You this nice to all your customers, Curtis?"_ _

__Curtis leaned close, his breath in Mickey's ear. "You always come here looking to find your own private dancer?"_ _

__Mickey felt the hand fumble the button open and tug on the zipper. Curtis slid his hand in until he was palming Mickey's cock. He moved his hand away and pulled at Mickey's jeans. Mickey lifted off the couch and Curtis got up and pulled them down, along with his underwear. He pushed Mickey back against the couch and got down in front of him, pushing Mickey's knees apart and fitting himself between them. He took Mickey in his mouth, drawing a hiss of breath from Mickey. He moved up and down, working his hand and mouth together. Mickey ran his fingers through Curtis' hair and grabbed a fistful. He tugged it and Curtis moaned, sending a flush through his body. Mickey was close, he knew he wasn't going to last much longer. He tried to focus his attention, staring at the redhead below him, focusing on how many freckles were on his face. When Curtis looked up and met his eye, Mickey lost his grasp on whatever control he had been clinging to. He bucked his hips and yelled out as Curtis worked him through his orgasm._ _

Mickey slumped against the couch, the energy momentarily drained out of him. Curtis got off the floor and sat down on the couch, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His lips were wet and very pink and Mickey admired them. 

"That's some real customer service you got there, Red."

Curtis smirked at that. He leaned in and whispered, "Can't really call you a customer, I didn't take your money."

Mickey reached for his wallet and Curtis put a hand on his arm to stop him. Mickey looked at him curiously.

"I don't want your money."

"What do you want?"

"I want you."

"Well if you give me a few minutes I can probably go again."

"No, I mean, I want to get to know you."

"I don't do all that."

Curtis nodded and smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. He got up and went to leave, opening the door, but pausing. He looked back at Mickey.

"You live your life just once, so don't forget about a thing called love."

"Sounds like a line from one of these club songs you listen to."

"It is. Doesn't mean there isn't any truth to it though."

He left, shutting the door behind him and giving Mickey the chance to get himself together. He felt kind of bad, it was clear that something about that exchange bothered Curtis, though given the situation it really shouldn't have. He fixed himself and pulled his pants back up. He made his way out of the club, not stopping to find Curtis or grab another drink.

\----------

Later, Curtis had changed into his street clothes and was making his way home when he heard a voice behind him. It was soft, tentative. "Hey."

He turned around and was surprised at what he saw. "Johnny. Why are you still here?"

Mickey shrugged. "You said you wanted to get to know me. I'm not a 'thing called love' guy, and I might be more of a 'fuck in a back alley' kind of guy, but I figured I could settle for a cup of coffee. Unless you have somewhere else to be."

Curtis smiled at him. "Deal. Hey, if coffee goes well, maybe I'll still fuck you in a back alley somewhere."

Mickey raised his eyebrows in interest. "Shit. Here's hoping."

The pair laughed as they fell in step together, walking off in search of a 24 hour diner.

\----------

Mickey woke up to an empty bed and a full bladder. He stumbled into the bathroom to relieve himself and then made his way to the kitchen for some coffee. Ian was at the table with his own coffee, scanning the newspaper. Mickey ruffled his hair as he passed behind him.

"Morning... Curtis."

"Morning... Johnny."

They looked at each other for a moment and laughed. Mickey poured himself some coffee and felt Ian sneak behind him, putting one hand on the counter on either side of him and effectively boxing him in. He turned around and Ian was on him, pushing his back into the counter edge and catching Mickey's lips with his own. They stayed that way for a minute or two until Mickey's impatience won out and he went for his coffee. They sat down at the table and Ian's attention was no longer on the newspaper.

"Admit it, Mick. You enjoyed last night."

"Y'know, I thought role-playing would be stupid, but I'm not gonna lie, it was kinda hot. The blow job was a nice touch. Fucking me in that alley behind Patsy's was even better. Reminded me of the old days when we fucked anywhere we could. Freezers, dugouts, fuck knows where else."

Ian leaned forward and ran his leg up Mickey's thigh, lingering there. "Well, our options were limited back then. I had fun last night too. I thought after the blow job that you weren't into it, wasn't expecting you to be outside when I left."

"I just wasn't that into the back story. The dancer thing. You know that wasn't my thing. And you're still a shitty dancer."

"They never came to see my dancing, Mick."

"That's exactly my point."

"Fine, next time you can pick. Spy/villain? Doctor/nurse?"

Mickey rolled his eyes but when Ian leaned in for a kiss, he obliged. And when the time came again that Ian wanted to role play and pick the scenario, he obliged. And whenever Ian really wanted something and looked at Mickey with those damn puppy dog eyes, he obliged. Because really, he was a 'thing called love' guy. He hadn't forgotten it, he never would, and he'd done a fuck of a lot in the name of it. And he wouldn't stop.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://grumblesandmumbles.tumblr.com)!


End file.
